


Heartbeat

by taggianto



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Hockey, Homophobic Language, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Open Relationships, other stuff that I don't want to spoil just yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-05 20:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggianto/pseuds/taggianto
Summary: Kent Parson looks around at the various screens in the dimly lit bar where he and a few of his teammates had been watching the game. Each has a slightly different shot of the same scene playing out on the ice. He smiles into his drink and realizes he’s actually happy for them.Or, well, he was.----Kent Parson's biggest fear is that Jack's coming out will somehow end up with Kent being outed himself. I mean, nothing could be worse than that...Could it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Something Like This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126172) by [emmagrant01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmagrant01/pseuds/emmagrant01). 



> Taylor Whitton is the brainchild of Emma Grant, he's from her "Something Like This" universe. With her permission, I've borrowed him and plopped him into the canon storyline because Parse/Whits 5ever. You don't have to have read that fic to follow along with this one, but I highly recommend you do anyways because it is brilliant. Go. Read it. I'll wait.
> 
> Big thanks to [miastree](http://archiveofourown.org/users/miastree) for her work as beta :)

And there’s the buzzer. After a grueling seven game series, the Providence Falconers are now the new Stanley Cup Champions.

Kent Parson looks around at the various screens in the dimly lit bar where he and a few of his teammates had been watching the game. Each has a slightly different shot of the same scene playing out on the ice. He smiles into his drink and realizes he’s actually happy for them.

Of course it stings that it's not the Aces out there hoisting the cup with red and black confetti raining down from the rafters, but at least it's not the fucking Schooners either – the team that had knocked them out in game six of the second round. So yeah, he's actually happy for Jack Zimmermann and the Falconers.

Or, well, he _was_.

“Uhhh, hey, Parser. You see this?” Scraps holds up his phone.

Kent rolls his eyes. “It's on the screens, Scraps.”

“Naw, look.” He hands him the phone. “It's all over social media...”

Well of course it's all over social media, the Falconers probably had their victory tweets, instas, snaps, statuses and updates all composed and ready to post as soon as the buzzer sounded. He's about to say as much to his teammate when he actually looks at the screen that's been offered to him.

Oh.

Well.

_Shit._

“Huh,” is all he manages before Carl's over his shoulder and saying the same stupid shit he always does. Kent lets it go this time though, eyes fixed on the looping gif of Jack Zimmermann kissing his little blonde boyfriend at _center ice_ of all places.

He feels his own phone buzzing in his pocket then, and he's pretty sure he knows who the texts will be from. _He's going to be insufferable now,_ he thinks. But there are too many prying eyes in the bar, so he doesn't risk checking the messages. He'll just have to wait.

Luckily, it doesn't take long for the Aces to start to disperse and soon Kent is alone on his walk home. He finally pulls out his phone to see a few missed calls and texts.

 **Message from TW** : we did it baby!  
**Message from TW:** omg did you see jack and bitty  
**Missed Call from:** TW  
**Missed Call from:** TW  
**Missed Call from:** TW  
**Message from TW:** call me??  
**Missed Call from:** TW  
**Message from TW:** you’re probably still at the bar. I'm headed to Jack's. Call me when you can  <3 <3

He taps out a quick reply – _congrats, babe, I'm so proud of you_ – and pockets his phone for the rest of the walk home. He feels it buzz a few more times, but this was not a conversation he wanted to have in public.

Once he's home, he first feeds the very vocal Maine coon who'd started lecturing him on the lateness of her meal before he'd even opened the door. He then grabs himself a beer from the fridge and plops onto the sofa. He sighs and opens his favorites to make a call to one Taylor Whitton, Providence Falconer and very recent Stanley Cup Champion.

It rings twice before he answers, barely audible over the background noise. “Babe? Gimme a second, I...” There's a bit more background noise, then the sound of a door closing and the din is muffled. “Hey, sorry, needed to find a quiet spot.”

“That crazy, huh? I doubt Zimms' apartment has ever been what could even be described as ‘slightly rowdy.’”

“Chyeah, it's a little insane. There's a giant blow-up duck? I don't know why?” He laughs, and the sound makes Kent's heart melt. “A lot of Jack's college buddies are here.”

“Yeah? Makes sense that they'd have been at the game.” He'd met several of Jack's old teammates at that second (unfortunate) time he'd visited Samwell. Luckily, Jack had forgiven him for that. Well, he had eventually.

“Yeah. So... what'd you think of the game?”

“I'm so proud of you, Taylor,” Kent says. He's surprised by his own sincerity.

“Thanks, pumpkin.” He can hear a smile in Taylor's voice. “God, it was so crazy. The last few minutes on the ice, and then Jack's goal... fuck, the rest is just a fucking blur, it was so nuts. Suddenly there were all these people on the ice, and cameras and _confetti_ and...”

“Yeah, I know. I know exactly how that feels. It's almost like an out of body experience, yeah?” Kent thinks back to the years the Aces had won the cup. It was surreal, being out there on the ice in the middle of all the commotion and celebration.

“Totally. I think someone interviewed me at some point? I have no fucking clue what I said. And then there were more cameras and... well... did you see...?” Taylor doesn't finish, but Kent knows what he means.

He sighs. He knew this would be coming. “Yeah, I did.”

The line is quiet for a moment before Taylor speaks again. “Well, what do... what did you think...?”

Kent can't quite keep the bitter tone from his voice when he answers. “I think they're fucking crazy, that's what I think.”

“Well yeah, but... it was kind of romantic? And, y'know... now that they're the first...”

“Taylor -”

“Kenny. I know you said you didn't want to be -”

“ _Don't_ want to be. Present tense.”

“Yeah, but, now that they’re -”

“ _Taylor._ I don't want to have this conversation right now.” He rubs a hand over his face, his beer forgotten on the coffee table. There's silence on the other end of line and great, now he's the bad guy. “Just...” he says after a moment. “Look, I just want to be happy for you, okay? I mean, obviously I wish it was the Aces holding the cup but like… I’m actually proud of you.”

“I know, I just -”

“ _I know._ Believe me, I know. I knew you'd... anyway. I really don't want to talk about it right now.” He sighs again and lays down on the sofa. “When can you come out to Vegas?”

Silence. “I was kinda hoping you'd come to Providence.”

“Taylor, you know that's not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“You – it’s just… I'm far more likely to get recognized in Providence than you'd be in Vegas. And then there will be the questions, especially since Jack's just gone and outed himself on national television.”

“I know, but... We've got a presser tomorrow morning, and then there's some events planned because of the cup and whatnot, I don't know when I'll be able to get out there. Not for a couple of days, at least. I thought if you could come here, I could see you sooner. I miss you.”

“I know baby, and I miss you too. But I'm going to have to be careful for a while. You know they're gonna follow that trail from Jack's kiss right back to me.” He closes his eyes. Fuck, things just got so much more complicated.

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” He sighs. “Anyway, you should get back to the party.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You just won the Stanley Fucking Cup. Enjoy yourself. Go get your dick sucked and then tell me all about it. As long as it's not by Zimmermann,” he adds, only half joking.

Taylor laughs and, for now, the tension is gone between them. “Yeah, alright. I'll call you later and tell you everything, okay?”

“Yeah. Later, babes.” Kent hangs up and sighs, staring at the ceiling of his luxury condo.

Taylor and Kent’s relationship was far from what anyone would call “ordinary,” but it worked for them. Spending so much time apart was tough, especially for two very physical people; phone sex and Skype calls could only do so much. Essentially they have an open relationship – they can see other people as long as everything is out in the open. They’d worked it out mostly through trial and error and a lot of conversations about boundaries and limits and rules.

So when Taylor calls later and tells him every juicy detail of the amazing blowjob he’d just received, Kent comes with Taylor's voice in his ear and his name on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s more than a week before Taylor gets the all-clear from the Falconers’ staff. There had been press conferences and charity events and that _parade_ and more charity events… It seemed like the media circus would never end. But at last, Taylor was free and on his way to spend five whole glorious weeks with Kent in Vegas.

Kent, who is nearly jumping out of his skin waiting for him at the airport. He forces himself to retain a cool exterior - more or less plastering on his Interview Face. Checking the boards up on the airport wall again he confirms that yes, Taylor’s plane _did_ land almost twenty minutes ago. He needs something to do with his hands so he scrolls through twitter and retweets a few stupid animal videos.

A sharp whistle sounds through the air and Kent looks up to see Taylor coming down the escalator and waving at him. Try as he might, he can’t stop the wide, genuine smile that crosses his face at the sight. God, he just wants to jump him right there and kiss that goofy little grin off his face without a care in the world as to who might see them.

_Keep it in check, Parson._ He tones down the grin. This was Las Vegas International. There were eyes and ears everywhere. He’d already signed a handful of autographs on his way up here and the airport wasn’t even that crowded.

So when Taylor spreads his arms wide for a hug, Kent keeps it brief and backs away quickly. “Good to see you, man,” he says, Chill Hockey Bro mask firmly in place.

Taylor looks confused when he pulls back. “Yeah… you too..?” He gives Kent a questioning look, which earns him a stern not-quite-glare in return. “You okay?” he asks, quieter.

Kent ignores the question. “C’mon, I’ve got a cab waiting.” He nods his head in the direction of the exit and starts walking.

The ride back to Kent’s condo is tense, the silence broken by awkward small talk that soon fizzles out. Taylor keeps glancing at him, clearly worried. Kent doesn’t respond.

They finally arrive at Kent’s building, a sleek glass high-rise just off the main strip. The elevator ride to his floor seems to take forever, the hallway is miles long, but finally – mercifully – they’re inside, the door is closed and Kent can give him a proper greeting. He doesn’t even wait for Taylor to drop his bag before he pushes him up against the door with hungry, needy kisses. He loves the way Taylor seems to melt against him, the little satisfied noises that he makes as they kiss, as their hands roam each other, familiarizing themselves with one another once again.

Taylor breaks the kiss first, ducking his head down to tuck into Kent’s neck, breathing him in. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He squeezes him tight.

“I’ve missed you too, baby… so much…” They hold each other for several moments, and when they kiss again it’s still heated but it isn’t quite as frantic. It’s deliberate and lingering and full of promises.

“You had me worried at the airport.” Taylor finally pulls back and locks eyes with Kent. It looks like he’s searching for something there.

It’s an intense look and Kent turns away out of… what, shame? Guilt? “Yeah, well. Cameras and smartphones, y’know?”

“You’ve never cared about that _before_ ,” Taylor says with a frown. “I mean, hell, the last time I was here you sucked me off in the backseat of a cab.”

“Yeah, well _before_ my every move wasn’t being scrutinized by tabloids and clickbait sites itching to connect me to Mr. NHL Gay Pride.”

Taylor’s quiet for a moment. “It’s been that bad?”

“Every goddamned interview.” Kent sighs and steps back but catches one of Taylor’s hands in his own. “Haven’t you been getting it too? I mean, after all that stuff you guys have posted to Twitter and Instagram, there’s gotta be rumors.”

“A bit, yeah. Interviewers mostly just want to know if I knew about them, what Bitty’s like, does it make it awkward in the locker room,” he rolls his eyes at that one. “You know, that sort of thing.” He swings their clasped hands absently. “Jack was wondering if they were harassing you,” he adds, a little quieter.

“Yeah, he texted me a few days ago.” Kent hadn’t responded with the full rundown of just how much the media had been harassing him, though. He’s only just started to rekindle his friendship with Jack and the last thing he wants is for Jack to feel guilty about coming out.

“Y’know,” Taylor says after a few moments, “everyone’s been really supportive of him and Bitty.” He looks at Kent cautiously. “All the Falconers, and the staff.”

Kent shakes his head. “Taylor.”

“I’m just saying, if we… it might not be so bad.”

“Can we not do this right now?” He sighs and leans his forehead against Taylor’s chest. When he speaks again his voice is muffled. “I haven’t seen you in over two months and honestly I just want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you beg me to come.”

“Oh, is that all?” Taylor grins and tugs at the hem of Kent’s shirt. “Well, when you put it _that_ way…”

They’re both half-naked before they even get to the bedroom door.

\---

Several hours later, they’re lying in Kent’s bed, waking up from the sleepy daze of the recently fucked. Kent’s flat on his back with his eyes closed, running his hand through Taylor’s long hair as his lover presses soft, lazy kisses to his neck.

Taylor eventually pulls back and Kent makes a small discontented sound. He opens one eye to see Taylor looking down at him curiously. “…what?”

“Can we talk?”

Kent groans. “Do we have to?”

Taylor traces his finger along the celtic tattoo on Kent’s hip. “I don’t want to be in the closet forever.”

“I know, muffin, but…” Kent rubs at his eyes. “I’m not even out to my team. I think a couple of the guys have guessed, but they know to keep their mouths shut.”

“You’re their captain. You’ve carried them to the Stanley Cup championship more than once. They respect you.”

Kent snorts. “So? How much respect are they gonna have for me if they know I’m…” he pauses, waving a hand in the air.

“Bi?”

Kent shrugs. “Well, not straight.”

“They’re your teammates. And when you’re on a team that means you have each other's backs.”

“I don’t know what kind of new age shit they’re feeding you guys over there," Kent says, a hint of a warning in his voice, "but the Aces aren’t the fucking Falconers, Tay.”

Taylor keeps pushing. “But part of being on a team is being honest. You don’t know –“

Big mistake.

“I don’t _know?_ ” Kent pushes himself up so he’s sitting against the headboard. He looks at Taylor incredulously and the anger and hurt in his eyes is intense. “Are you saying I don’t _know_ my own fucking team, Whitton? Fuck you.”

“That’s not what I meant –”

“No? Well, what is it that you meant, then? That I don’t hear what they say every fucking day in the locker room? Don’t hear what they shout on the ice? Don’t see the glee on their faces when they talk about the fucking – fucking _faggots_ they beat up in Juniors?”

Taylor’s voice is small. “Baby, I just mean – “

“This isn’t Rhode Island, Taylor. This is fucking Nevada. Big fancy city in the middle of a fucking desert, yeah, but when it comes down to it, midwestern fans aren’t going to support a team that’s got a gay captain, period.”

The silence between them is heavy. It seems to stretch on for ages. Kent’s not ready to let go of his anger and Taylor doesn’t seem to be sure of what to say. They stare at each other, tense. But soon there’s a soft scratching sound on the closed bedroom door and a few faint but insistent chirps. “Not _now_ , Kitt,” Kent shouts at the door.

Taylor just can’t help it - he giggles.

“What?” Kent blinks. “She doesn’t like it when I raise my voice.”

“You just got told off by your _cat._ ” Taylor grins up at him like Christmas has come early.

“Hey, fuck you,” Kent says, but he’s smiling now too. He pushes lightly at Taylor’s shoulder.

Taylor just smiles at him for a moment, then sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just… got a little worked up.” He threads his fingers through Taylor’s hair, pushing it up and away from his face.

“You’re a scary fucker when you’re angry, y’know that?”

Kent laughs. “Oh, am I now?”

“Yeah.” Another chuckle, then a pause. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I just… I don’t want us to hide forever. Is it always going to be like this?”

“No.” Kent shakes his head. “No, I – I don’t want to hide you either but just… now’s not the time. I’m not ready right now and besides, you’ve seen the shit storm that’s been swirling around Jack. Do you really want to get caught up in that?”

“I try not to look at that stuff.” He scoots up and rests his head on Kent’s shoulder and Kent’s arm automatically goes around his waist. “But I get it. I do.”

Kent turns to look at him. “Someday, baby. I promise, okay?”

Taylor nods and leans in to kiss him. “Someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter probably won't be up until sometime this weekend. <3


	3. Chapter 3

A few nights later and Kent decides that they’re going dancing - not that Taylor would ever argue against that. Taylor’s standing in front of the sink in Kent’s master bathroom, fussing with his hair. The sound of metal sliding on metal rings out as Kent shuffles through shirts in his closet. 

“Hey baby, can you -” Kent rounds the corner and groans. “Oh. My God. Your hair is  _ fine _ . Now get over here and help me pick out a shirt.”

“Why can’t you just go like that?” Taylor looks over and rakes his eyes along the sharp lines of Kent’s abs, and the way the dark wash jeans he’s wearing sit  _ just so _ on his hips. A sliver of neon green peeks out: the band of those ridiculously expensive boxer briefs that he wears.

Kent crosses his arms. “No shoes, no shirt, no service.”

“I’d service you,” Taylor says with a grin.

“Cupcake,” Kent whines, drawing the word out and putting on his best kicked puppy expression.

“Fine. Fine! I’m coming.” He takes one last look in the mirror before following Kent into his walk-in closet.

Kent vetoes the first six shirts Taylor suggests before finally settling on a dark purple and black plaid button-down. He’s already slipped on a plain white tee that accentuates, rather than hides, his muscles below the taught fabric.

“So,” Kent says, shrugging into the shirt and starting on the buttons.

“La, ti, do,” Taylor helpfully supplies.

Kent rolls his eyes but Taylor doesn’t miss his smile. “Dork. Anyway. Standard rules for tonight?” Standard rules meant that all clothes have to stay on and neither of them gets to come until they get back to Kent’s place.

“Sounds good to me. Anything else?”

Kent grins. “I could tie you into a rope harness and make you wear it under your clothes all night.” He moves closer and walks his fingers up Taylor’s chest. The thought makes him shiver and  _ fuck, _ Kent just knows how to tick all his boxes.

Taylor’s mouth has gone a bit dry. “Ah - um. I’m already dressed though.”

“Suit yourself,” Kent smirks and turns to look through his (embarrassingly large) collection of snapbacks.

Taylor lets out a breath. He’d have to keep that one in mind for later. He clears his throat. “We bringing anyone back with us?”

Kent slips a black and white Aces hat on backwards and turns to look up at him through long lashes. “...A girl?” he asks, hopeful.

Taylor chews on his lip. They’d never done that. Sure, there’d been threesomes with guys, foursomes, fivesomes that included women, but they’d never gone to bed with just him, Parse and a woman. “I don’t know…”

“Never mind,” Kent says, turning to fuss with his cowlick in the mirror.

The fact that Kent doesn’t go into full-on pout mode throws Taylor off for a second. “No, baby, I didn’t say no, I just…”

“No, it’s fine. You’re not into women, I get it.”

“Yeah, but  _ you _ are.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Taylor frowns. “What would you want to do with her?”

“I just…” Kent seems to struggle to find the right words and that is  _ so _ not typical of him. “I feel like being in the middle. You fuck me, I fuck her kinda thing.”

“We could do that with a guy. We  _ have _ done that with a guy.”

Kent pauses. “It’s different with women,” he says, avoiding Taylor’s eyes in the mirror.

That tugs at Taylor’s heart. There it is, that one itch that he can’t scratch. He’s not gonna lie, it kills him a little inside when he thinks about it. He knows that if he asked, Kent would never sleep with another woman again, he knows that he’d choose Taylor over anyone else, but that… isn’t what Taylor wants either.

“Forget it,” Kent says, keeping his tone light.

“Hey, c’mere.” Taylor pulls Kent toward him, hands on his hips. “We’ll see how the night goes, okay? And if you find someone who’s up for it, well… we can try.”

“You sure?” Kent holds up a finger before Taylor can answer. “Don’t say yes just because you know I want to.”

“No, it’s not that. You know I like watching you with other people, women included. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kent nods and gives him a light kiss.

They end up finding someone after all. Taylor decides that any awkwardness there might have been is washed away by the look of pure bliss on his lover’s face.

\---

It’s been three weeks of them more or less living together and Taylor is frankly astonished that they haven’t managed to completely annoy one other. This is the longest they’d been in the same time zone since… well, ever really. There were a couple hook ups during the season, then those turned into stolen weekends together, but because of their respective schedules, they’d barely had more than two days together.

The fact that they’d managed to just slide into each other’s lives with so little friction is something Taylor’s never experienced. Things with Dani, his ex, were always tense and prickly at the edges. Taylor was always worried that he was being too clingy, too needy, mostly because Dani kept telling him he was. Time and distance has finally started to heal those particular wounds, and between his friendship with Jack and his relationship with Kent, he’s started believing he’s worthy of love again.

In spite of this, old habits die hard and he can’t keep himself from thinking that he and Kent are just an argument away from something final, from Kent deciding Taylor wasn’t worth his time any more.

These thoughts and more tumble over in his mind as he lays on Kent’s couch idly flipping through Sports Illustrated. Kent had gone out for a run about an hour or so ago and even though he'd tried to convince Taylor to come with him, he'd eventually gone out alone. Taylor has discovered he prefers the treadmill – Las Vegas in July is  _ hot _ , especially since he’s so used to Providence’s weather. So Taylor had gotten in his morning workout in Kent’s little home gym, showered, and decided to relax on the sofa until he returned.

Kitt hears him before Taylor does. The Maine coon launches herself off her perch on Taylor’s stomach and starts squeaking at the door. The jingle of keys on the other side of the door just encourages her. Taylor secretly thinks that Kent’s cat is broken – it never meows, just squeaks and chirps like some weird sort of bird.

“No, no, back baby girl…” Kent says as he tries to maneuver his way through the doorway without letting the cat out.

Taylor looks up from the magazine and waves. “How was the run?”

“Hot,” Kent replies, stripping off his shirt and using it to wipe at his face.

“Ooh, giving me a show, hmm?” Taylor grins at him. Kent replies by throwing his sweat-soaked shirt as his face. “Oh god, gross.” Taylor laughs and throws it back at him. “Go get a shower, you dirty boy.”

“You know it,” Kent winks and heads toward the bathroom.

“Oh!” Taylor calls after him, “Your phone’s been buzzing all morning. Looks like your agent called.”

“Weird.” Kent pauses, then shrugs. “I’ll call him later. You joining me?”

“I already took a shower.” He pushes himself up off the sofa though, because he knows what’s coming next.

Sure enough, “Pumpkin…” Kent whines.

“I’m coming, I’m coming” he says, setting the magazine down and heading towards him.

“Not yet, but you will be,” Kent replies with a smirk.

\----

True to his word, Kent does eventually have him coming in the shower, and then again while he fucks him through the mattress, whispering filthy nothings in his ear. Afterward, they settle on the couch, flipping through Netflix for something stupid to watch before making lunch. Kent’s phone buzzes in his pocket and Taylor can feel it against his thigh. “You should probably answer that before we get into anything.”

Kent grumbles, but digs his phone out anyway. “Dunno what the fuck is so important it can’t wait until our meeting on Friday.” He swipes at the screen and stands, crossing to the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Las Vegas. “Parson.”

Taylor tunes out, continuing to flip through Netflix. Kent had just signed an eight year extension with the Aces, it’s not like they’d be trading him any time soon. He’d let himself fantasize on occasion about Kent joining the Falconers, or himself joining the Aces… but logistically, it just wouldn’t work out. Dating coworkers was never a good idea, dating teammates was an even worse one. But if one of them could be traded to a  _ closer _ team, that would certainly –

“That’s really none of your fucking business.” Taylor’s pulled from his daydreaming by the tone of Kent’s voice. Something isn’t right. He sits up, but Kent has his back to him.

“– bullshit.” Kent starts to pace. “Just some gold digger looking to – No. No, wait, say that again…” He stops moving abruptly. “Shit. Okay. Um. Okay. Yeah, just…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Send me her number. Don’t – I’ll handle it. Obviously keep this to yourself, right?” There's a long pause before Kent continues. “I said I’ll handle it. Yeah, thanks.”

Taylor’s standing by the time he hangs up. He can see that Kent’s shaking. “Baby, what was that about?” He reaches a hand out to Kent’s shoulder and is surprised when he actually flinches at the touch.

Kent turns to look at him and all the color has drained from his face. Opening his mouth to say something, he stares at Taylor wordlessly.

Okay, now Taylor’s on full alert. “Kenny? Baby, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

“I – I fucked up, Tay, I…” he finally manages to say. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

“Shh, it’s okay, just…” Taylor guides him back to the sofa. Alarm bells are ringing in his ears, scenarios buzzing along with them. Someone had died. They’d been outed. The Aces had been sold. “Just tell me, honey, whatever it is…”

“There’s a – a girl.” Kent squeezes Taylor’s hand so tight it hurts. “She’s saying I… she’s… pregnant.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kent shakes his head, trying to pull himself out of the daze he’s in. No need to panic. So he’d gotten a girl pregnant. There were options. This wasn’t something to freak out about, especially not before he’d had a chance to talk to her. Mike said he’s send her number over, but he hadn’t gotten anything yet.

Eventually, he realizes that Taylor’s waving his hand in front of Kent’s face. “What?”

“Talk to me, babe.” Taylor’s eyes are full of concern when Kent finally looks at him. For some reason it annoys him. “Do you know who it is?”

“Yeah. She’s, uh, the barista. From about a month ago?” They’d flirted a bit while Kent was ordering his coffee, and then she’d not-so-subtly hinted that she lived nearby and got off work at eight.

Taylor looks confused. “But... how? Didn’t you use a condom?”

“Of course I did.” That’s their one hard rule. Kent’s actually a little upset that Taylor thinks he’d break it. “I promised you that.”

“Okay, but if you didn’t —”

Kent lets out a frustrated sound. “I fucking did, okay? They’re not 100% reliable. Obviously.”

“Okay, okay.” Taylor holds up his hands. “I was just checking.”

Kent’s about to snap a reply to that when his phone buzzes in his hand. He winces. “That’s… ah, her number. Shit.” Kent scrubs a hand over his face.

“Are you going to call her?”

 _For fuck’s sake._ “Yeah, just — gimme a second, all right?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does, but he’s getting a little sick of Taylor fussing over him.

Taylor finally seems to get the hint that he needs to back off. Kent stares down at the phone in his hand, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his racing pulse. Finally, he hits the number to dial it.

It rings three times and Kent has just started to worry what he’ll say if it goes to voicemail when someone answers. “Hello?”

Kent blinks, then manages to find his voice. “Uh, hi. Is this Angie?” 

“It is. Who’s this?”

“Kent Parson.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Uh, gimme one second.”

“Okay.” Kent leans forward, bracing his elbow on his thigh and rubbing at his eyes.

After a few seconds of muffled sounds, the voice is back. “Sorry, didn’t want my roommates to walk in on this conversation.”

“Yeah, no that wouldn't be good.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence. “Um, so Mike told me…” _God, I sound like an idiot._

“Your agent, yeah.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I should have given you my number.”

She chuckles on the other end of the line and it helps to ease some of Kent’s nerves. “No, it’s fine. It was a one-time thing. Obviously, neither of us expected… y’know.”

“Right. So.” How do you even have this sort of conversation? “Are… I guess, are you sure?”

“I’ve taken two different pregnancy tests a couple of days apart, so about as sure as I can be before I see my OB/Gyn next week.”

“Right.” _Stop saying right,_ he thinks. “So. Um… What do you want to… do… about this?”

Angie sighs. “Well, I mean, I’ve never really wanted kids so I don’t…” She pauses again before just answering, “I don’t know.”

Kent nods, which is stupid because she can’t see it. “Whatever you decide, I’ll uh. I’ll support you, either way. The media might make me out to be a dick, but it’s your body and I respect that.”

“Thanks. That means a lot, Kent. I mean, I’m not making any decisions yet, obviously. I want to talk with my doctor first.”

“Understandable.”

“But I guess right now I’m leaning towards adoption? Unless, I don’t know. Would you want…?”

He lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think... I mean, I’m so busy and I’m away half the time… I didn’t expect kids to be in the picture for like, a decade yet. At least.”

“Yeah, no, that’s kinda what I thought.”

“So I guess just… let me know how your appointment goes. You have my number now, so you don’t need to go through Mike, you can just call me.”

“Thanks. Lord, that was an awkward call to make.” She chuckles.

Kent cringes at the thought of how that must have gone. “Yeah, and Mike’s not the most… tactful... person in the world, so I apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way.”

“Honestly,” she says, “It wasn’t too bad.”

Kent seriously doubts that, but he doesn’t say it out loud. He rubs at the back of his neck and he can just _feel_ Taylor’s eyes boring into him. “I’ll text you my mailing address. Just have any bills sent to me, I’ll handle them.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be like, y’know.”

“No, really, it’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks. That really is a big relief. I mean, I have insurance but, you know how it is.” She sighs softly. “Well. I guess I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“When’s your appointment?”

“Next Thursday at two.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Later.” Kent pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it for a moment. At some point during the conversation, Kitt had jumped up on the sofa and laid her head on Kent’s thigh. He sets his phone down and absently scratches between her ears, then looks up at Taylor.

“How are you feeling?” Taylor asks, concerned.

“I don’t know,” Kent answers truthfully. “A little numb?”

Taylor nods and waits a moment before continuing. “So what did she have to say? I only caught pieces here and there.”

“Well,” Kent looks back down at Kitt, focusing on the way her whiskers move as he runs his hand over her head, “she said she doesn’t want kids, but she said she was leaning toward adoption unless…” He shrugs. “Unless I wanted him. Her. Whatever.”

“Wow,” Taylor says softly.

“Yeah, wow.” Understatement of the year.

“…Do you want kids?”

“Well… someday.” He gets the feeling that Taylor’s waiting for him to elaborate but that… that’s not something he can deal with right now. Instead, he sits up and stretches out his back, rubbing at his eyes. “Fuck, I am just completely drained right now. I’m not even hungry. I’m just… I’m just gonna lay down for a while.”

Taylor nods and Kent’s glad he doesn’t push it any further. “Go ahead. I’ll be in a little later.”

Kent nods and stands up, much to Kitt’s displeasure. Once in the bedroom, he sits on the edge of his bed in the dark, staring at the floor. He’d always known this was a possibility, obviously, he’s aware of how things work. But he never thought it’d be something he’d have to deal with. He’s always been so careful, a hell of a lot more careful than some of the other guys on the team. Did any of them ever have to deal with something like this? Not that he’d ever ask, of course. He sighs and rolls onto his side of the bed, trying to clear his mind by taking deep breaths and imagining the sound as ocean waves slipping along a beach.

It doesn’t work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really difficult for me to write for some reason. Guess I'm just a bit rusty.


End file.
